


as we ignite (the fire grows)

by jaepeels



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Fluff, M/M, badboy!Jihoon, mentions of violence but nothing explicit, softboy!guanlin, that one bad boy and good boy falling in love trope that has no actual plot, who is actually a softie, who's so whipped for his hyung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 15:57:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15732690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaepeels/pseuds/jaepeels
Summary: “i donʼt want you to get hurt,” he whispers as they lay down on the grass, under the vast expanse of the night sky.“i wonʼt get hurt,” says the younger of the two, words murmured against fiery red hair as he buries himself closer to the warm body beside him. he whispers them like how the moon whispers to the sea: a quiet promise.





	as we ignite (the fire grows)

**Author's Note:**

> hey, guys!
> 
> i apologize for ghosting yʼall and not writing anything for past few months. iʼve recently started uni and everythingʼs hectic, but!! i tried to find some time to write something for pw week and i may not actively participate every day, but i promise that iʼll post maybe once or twice? letʼs just see ;)
> 
> anyways, hereʼs a little something that i wrote that is really cheesy, self-indulgent, and unbetaʼd. please do enjoy! <3

/

 

 

 

 

 

“i donʼt want you to get hurt,” he whispers as they lay down on the grass, under the vast expanse of the night sky. 

 

“i wonʼt get hurt,” says the younger of the two, words murmured against fiery red hair as he buries himself closer to the warm body beside him. he whispers them like how the moon whispers to the sea: a quiet promise. 

 

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

 

 

the thing about park jihoon is that a lot of people talk about him. and theyʼre always bad. 

 

_itʼs because they donʼt really know you,_ guanlin thinks as he traces the sharp and soft edges of jihoonʼs features, caressing the boyʼs face with featherlight touch as he sleeps soundly against the youngerʼs heartbeat. thereʼs an apparent scar that runs across his right eyebrow down to his cheek, a small imperfection on his otherwise perfect face. 

 

jihoon shifts on his sleep, mumbling something nonsensical against guanlinʼs chest. guanlin smiles as he carefully strokes the older boyʼs hair, now feeling a little warm. 

 

the thing about park jihoon is that a lot of people talk about him, but they donʼt know about all the good things. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

 

 

bloodied hands and bruised face, hunched over the small space under the dormitory stairs. this was how guanlin found jihoon. 

 

“do you want to do anything with that?” guanlin had asked worriedly, eyeing him in the darkness. there was something vulnerable about how jihoon had looked with fresh cuts and bruises, his arms hugging his small frame so tightly as if he was in the verge of collapsing. 

 

“mind your own business, kid,” jihoon had said with a glare. he really looked like he wanted to be alone, but guanlin wonʼt have any of that. 

 

“you should come with me,” guanlin said. “i think you need to disinfect that. i have a medicine kit in my room, so—” 

 

jihoon had laughed, and it seemed kind of empty. “trust me, you donʼt want to be seen with me.” 

 

guanlin nibbled the bottom of his lip, just looking at the boy in front of him. of course he knew park jihoon; he was kind of infamous for his bad reputation. getting involved with him meant trouble, but seeing him in a vulnerable state like this made guanlin think that maybe, all those things that were said about him werenʼt all true. “itʼs literally the middle of the night. we wonʼt be seen together.”

 

“are you that worried about me, darling?” jihoonʼs tone was amused. 

 

guanlin had felt his face heat up a little. good thing it was dark. “iʼm just being a decent human being.”

 

“aww,” jihoon cooed teasingly. “thatʼs sweet, but no thanks.”

 

guanlin knew that he should leave and pretend that he never asked, but there was this nagging feeling inside his chest seemingly taunting him. so before he could even dwell about it, he had reached out for the sleeve of jihoon's shirt, giving it a quick tug. jihoon stared at him in confusion. 

 

“get up,” guanlin ordered, tugging on his shirt again. jihoon only blinked at him. “come on. i said get up. iʼm not leaving here until you come with me.”

 

“but—” 

 

“just come with me.” gualinʼs tone was firm, but then it softened when he added, “please.”

 

there was a silence. and then they were just staring at each other, unblinking and daring each other to look away. jihoonʼs eyes on him were scrutinizing guanlinʼs face, questioning and searching for an answer. guanlin had just looked at him straight in the eyes, silently telling him: _itʼs okay. just trust me._

 

it was jihoon who first averted his gaze and then wordlessly began to stand on his feet. 

 

“then lead the way,” he said quietly. 

 

guanlin had smiled at him and shifted his fingers from jihoonʼs sleeve down to his wrist, holding it like how he holds something precious: cautiously, delicately. jihoon had stared at where their skins meet, but didnʼt say anything. so, guanlin pulled him towards the staircase and led him upstairs, completely aware that things wonʼt ever be the same after that night. 

 

 

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

 

 

the strange thing is: he didnʼt expect to talk to jihoon that day or those days after that. hell, he didnʼt even think that theyʼd be friends; greeting each other before class, sitting together at lunch, and even hanging out during their free time. sometimes, people stare at them and whisper at each other how someone as good as lai guanlin would hang out with someone as troublesome as park jihoon. sometimes, jihoon would walk a few meters away from guanlin. sometimes, guanlin would close the distance himself until their arms brush together. why would he care about what other people say, anyway? he liked this: being able to be close to jihoon, being able to talk even the most mundane of things—like how the leaves were being carried by the wind, how the sunlight filters through the branches of trees, or how jihoon prefers chocolate over the strawberry flavor of ice cream. (jihoon didnʼt comment anything about their sudden friendship, but guanlin hoped that jihoon enjoyed his company—even just a little.)

 

maybe things work out better when you donʼt expect them. 

 

 

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

 

 

“hey, hyung? can i ask you something?”

 

“hmm. go ahead.”

 

“where did this come from?” 

 

“...”

 

“oh, um. if it makes you uncomfortable, you donʼt have to—” 

 

“my dadʼs a drunk; been that way since mom left. there was this one time when i told him to stop drinking, but he refused to. we fought then—there was a lot of yelling and bottles getting smashed. before i knew it, i felt pain on my face and then i saw blood. everything was hazy after that.”

 

“oh, god. iʼm so sorry.”

 

“no, itʼs okay. it wasnʼt your fault.”

 

“but still—i knew that it was going to be a sensitive topic and i still pried. iʼm sorry.”

 

“please donʼt be. it actually... feels good to let that all out.”

 

“... really?” 

 

“yeah. iʼm glad that you now know why i got this huge ass scar on my face. makes me less... _suffocated_ , knowing that at least one person is aware of the story behind it.”

 

“then... if thatʼs the case, iʼm glad that you told me, hyung. thank you.”

 

“thanks, too. for listening.”

 

 

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

 

 

he had looked at jihoon and observed the way the moonlight touch the curves his features softly, how his eyes shone like starlight reflecting across the surface of the sea, how the bruises on his wrists form together like galaxies and—guanlin knew that everything was shifting. he found that he didnʼt mind. 

 

 

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

 

 

guanlin fell in love like this:

 

slowly, but all at once. 

 

 

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

 

 

before, guanlin saw love as: looking through rose-colored glasses, bright and sparkly, and feeling like everything is in slow motion; that the world stops revolving just so you can only focus on one person. he saw love like how he saw love through movies and books and how parents told him their story: butterflies erupting in your stomach, heartbeats beating rapidly, and shining eyes that look at you like youʼre the only thing that matters. 

 

now he sees love as: the soft crinkles of jihoonʼs eyes as he laughs at something that guanlin says, even though they both know itʼs all nonsense; the gentle brushing of their fingers when they walk home side by side; the sound of jihoonʼs voice when he talks about something that excites him—or just plainly everything that he says; how he absentmindedly traces the scar on his face when he gets nervous or embarrassed; how he looks away when guanlin looks at him and smiles shyly when they catch each otherʼs gazes; and the way he makes guanlin feel when he leans onto him, ever so casually and oh so familiar and comfortable like in guanlinʼs space is where he belongs. 

 

like a feeling of home. 

 

 

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

 

 

home is what guanlin now associates with love. and home is in jihoonʼs smile, his eyes, his laugh, and in his arms. 

 

 

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

 

 

one time, when they were walking home, jihoon had reached out for his hand and intertwined it with his own, the feeling of warmth of his skin pervasive throughout guanlinʼs body; like it was already embedded in his genes. even without looking, they both know that they were smiling. and guanlin thinks: maybe you donʼt really need words to know that youʼre being loved. 

 

 

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

 

 

jihoon had kissed him for the first time that night. jihoon kissed him like he didnʼt really know how a kiss works: it was awkward, hesitant, and there was a lot of giggling and blushing because of how awkward it was, but aleast—it was _jihoon_. it was jihoon and it was the only thing that mattered. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

 

 

“are you sure youʼre okay with this?” jihoon asked him when all the blushing and giggling subsided. he looked worried and guanlin honestly wanted to kiss it all away. “with us?” 

 

“iʼm more than okay with this, hyung,” the younger boy reassured him, reaching for the belt loops of jihoonʼs pants and pulling him close closer closest to him to place a kiss on his forehead. “i like us. you have nothing to worry about.”

 

 

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

 

 

itʼs not always perfect; sometimes, people try to pull them apart. sometimes, jihoon still involves himself in stupid brawls and gets hurt. sometimes, they fight because of it. sometimes, they break up. but in the end, they eventually find each other again like notes coming together to form new harmonies. because—

 

because thatʼs just how it is: park jihoon and lai guanlin, despite being polar opposites, fit together in ways unprecedented. the universe may try to rip them apart, but it will never rip apart two hearts that belong to one another. 

 

 

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

 

 

they both donʼt expect it at all—that jihoon would be the one to say those three words first. and even though guanlin had already known this, it still feels overwhelming—and oh god does he feel so over the moon—when he hears them out it loud. 

 

“jeez,” he chuckles, a sound combining with the _thud thud thud_ of his heart against his ribcage. “and everyone thinks youʼre scary when youʼre actually a softie.”

 

“only when it comes to you,” jihoon whispers in his ear. 

 

guanlin crinkles his nose at him. “can you stop being gross?” 

 

jihoon kisses his cheek and grins at him. “never.”

**Author's Note:**

> if you have questions, my [cc](https://curiouscat.me/jaepeels) is always open :D hope y'all are having a good day!! (* ^ ω ^)


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